Lloyd kept his voice down, realizing that this could quickly get messy if the wrong people heard. He'd be fine, but the rest of his small force probably not so much. "Interesting. And I suppose your interest in this is the same as mine, ensuring Zoner control of Gran Canaria? The Baffin Zoners always were an honest lot, so I suppose we have a deal. Send me a secure message later with a time to meet - best bet is sending it to my fighter, Blackout." He raised his voice back to normal and looked around yet again.
"Actually, you're one of the Baffin Zoners, you can just pass along the message about the guards. Admittedly, I may have threatened to shoot Holiday once or twice, but those were special circumstances. Corsairs were involved." The bartender finally showed up with a glass of what appeared to be a soft drink from Liberty. One sip confirmed it - root beer, definitely not Lloyd's first choice. And it was about half flat, too. Ah well, still had to stay clear-headed.
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Doc was smiling for a change. He wasn't wearing robes as he so often did, rather, his gambler's attire with a cloak. His guns were covered by it although it was no secret that he was most likely armed. He made his rounds while another gambler ran the tables.
"Thanks for making my grand opening," he said to Skarsi, "do try to enjoy yourself while you, um...." Doc got close for a whisper, "Make plans." He grinned and walked to make a greeting to his friend.
"Welcome to the White Buffalo," he said.
He pointed at the bar, "It's perfect don't you think? It has everything from everywhere in Sirius. As far as beauty? Mrs. Holliday will be running the bar later."
Doc just walked about the place, admiring it's start, making it a point to keep his eyes at the doors.
*After having some troubles with getting through the entrance, Comisario Ladron approaches to security check with smile. He raised his hands showing there's nothing to hide. That didn't make guards happy at all. They checked him anyway, nice and brief - as real professionals. They got even less happy with finding no guns.*
He, he... You didn't search the right place for that terrible weapon I use when fiesta, hermanos. And worry not - as I use it on senoritas only.
*El Comisario's smile gets even wider, but it drops far from any possibility to make guards smile too. He steps in the bar, happy with his own comment. He spotted Pope and Lloyd looking at him and nods to them with respect. After brief search, he spotted Doc Holliday. He approached to Doc with smile*
Senoooor Holliday! Caramba! We finally meeeeet! This place looks beautiful! I hope tequila is not baptized with water - for God's sake, like in some other places around, hahaha!
I'm very glad to see a new place like this. I'm sure business will go well. And look... there's no need to worry about how Martial Law would scare your guests away. Not at all! This damned curfews are for bad people, people that plot their dirty little plans at nights and have no time for fiesta! And there's even more! After closing, My Carabineros will take care of all of your guests and personally escort them to safety! Every night, senor, every night!
I'm sure you didn't expect this, Doc. But who knows... *lowers his voice down so only Doc can hear* Maybe one day I'll need little something from you in return, si? *gives That Look to Doc*
Hey, is that place for me?
*El Comisario spots VIP lounge compartment, jumps there like a cat (with no chance to be stopped or distracted) and seats.*
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Doc talked privately with Ladron. He gave a sideways look the whole time. He wasn't buying it.
"Define bad people, Senor," Doc insisted. "The Bretonians here are war refugees who have made a home here, the nearby colony of New Cronus is of no threat unless you make them and none of the Zoners are. I just think that your definition of "bad people" is a very loose one."
"We were doing fine here," he continued, "and then you and your Coalition enemies started bombarding our planet. We asked you both to leave and settle your differences elsewhere. The Coalition has all but honored our request yet I see Corsairs staying around. To many a Zoner, you are viewed as an occupying force."
"Rest assured, Senor," he finished, "my guest need no escorts home. I will say this, if one of my guest is harmed, I will personally make a canoe out of their skull. I've had enough of being pushed."
He thinks a moment, smirking, "I remember a man like that once. His name was Ringo. He pushed and he lost."
Doc just winked as he walked to the bar, "Enjoy your drink.....and my VIP lounge."
Harold Kane, in his infinite snark, decided to visit the bar. Though he rarely drank anymore, and really never looked the part for it, he enjoyed the atmosphere. He handed both of his crossdraw pistols and a service knife of decent length to the guards, smiled, and wandered in.
"Kallisti, Doc," he called out as he wandered over to the counter. "I've got a headache and I need a drink and someone to talk to. Turns out I have a hell of an excuse for why our second shipment of supplies never made it to the planet, but I don't think you're going to like it."
Dressed in a long coat with Brotherhood and Council of Elders insignia,
and his chin up body language , he appeared to consider himself a man of status.
After standing near the entrance for a while , waiting in vain for someone to take his coat and serve him ,
he took off his silk gloves in a irritated fashion.
Taking big steps almost as if he was marching he made way to the bar.
He looked around a bit until he spotted doc Holiday and approached him.
He then snapped his fingers at him and pointed upward.
''Barmán, I am looking for a Comisario by the name of Ladron.
He is supposed to meet a Brotherhood Centurion by the name of Martino, as you can see I am here.
Bring me to him , and get me a good cappuccino per favor.''
The Centurion seemed to be uneasy with the place as his chin went up a few centimeters more.
Skarsi watches the jumped-up cretan march into the bar looking like he owned the place, and talking at Doc like he was a servant.
"Hey Turkey!" The corsair looks at him with an annoyed look on his face. "Yeah, im talking to you. you jumped up twerp."
Skarsi gets up, and marches over to the corsair.
"I dont much apreciate your tone, your manner or your poor dress sense. While in this place, you will respect Doc..." A 'chhnk' is heard as twin blades unsheath themselves from Skarsi's gauntlets. "or i will have to remove you from the premises. capiche?"
Skarsi flexes his considerable muscles to emphasise his point.
"Sorry about the blades Doc, but someone needs to be ready. I'll have some of the crew come over and help your guards."
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Doc just pointed where Ladron was sitting with some annoyance as he passed the man's order to a passing waiter before turning back to him, "Don't be snapping your fingers at me, I'm not one of your pets."
Doc kept a close watch on the two men from a card table. As the crowd increased, Midori came to help tend the bar.
With her children in bed and under watch of the estate staff, Midori arrived to tend bar. She came in with a fine kimono, kissing her husband with a smile. She noticed he was annoyed. When asked why, he just gave an inobvious gesture toward the two Corsairs and gave a quiet explanation as he walked her behind the bar. She was instructed to stay behind it.
A step behind the bar allowed her to stand up high enough to work it. She was short and the step in place with her in mind. She worked with a smile and efficiency, glad to be working. Hopefully her nursing skills wouldn't be needed. Hidden away within her garments was a small pistol. She was hoping not to need it.
Her only complaint to her husband was the need for some Kusari atmosphere.
Married to Ambassador John Henry "Doc" Holliday
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Doc put an arm around Skarsi and walked him away from the Corsair.
"Relax," he said, "but those blades need to be checked."
As he walked him over to the security area, he quietly told him, "we will be plenty ready. I opened this place to get away from the tension and to defy those invaders a bit. You can help me defy them by having a good time. You want to beat them? Do so at the card table."
He smiled at him, gave him a pat on the shoulder, and tended to his business.